


One-Off Clusterfuck

by MarvelMerlin



Series: DBH Major Character Death [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Gavin dies in the end, Gavin gets hurt and his boyfs show up at the hospital and the nurse is confused, Gavin's smart, M/M, Other, Polyamory, androids go to heaven, but only at the end, everyone dies, its kinda angsty, or something, poly shitshow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelMerlin/pseuds/MarvelMerlin
Summary: Some 100% true facts:Gavin Reed hates androids. (No he doesn't).Gavin Reed loves 7 VERY SPECIFIC androids.Gavin Reed is human, the men he loves are not.It's a shit show.
Relationships: Connor/CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Connor/Gavin Reed, Connor/Josh/Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Gavin Reed/Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900/Markus/Simon/Josh/Daniel/CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Josh/Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Josh/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: DBH Major Character Death [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148084
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	One-Off Clusterfuck

**Author's Note:**

> This clusterfuck brought to you by: Cara trying to write one of the 9 WIPs she currently has and being distracted by this single thought so needed to write it out.
> 
> (as always thanks to oswiniarty for beta-ing and listening to me the first time this thought entered my mind and then letting me send it to them)

So here’s the thing: Gavin Reed used to hate androids. If you asked him, he’d still say he hated androids.

But actions speak louder than words.

_How_ Gavin Reed and his partners had managed to keep their relationships from the media was a question none of them knew the answer to.

Markus was the face of a revolution, leading Jericho with Josh and Simon and Connor. Nines had been assigned to android crimes the same time Gavin had been. And Daniel and Sixty were two androids he’d repaired himself after getting them out of the evidence lockup.

The four leaders had gotten together less than a week after the android revolution. Nines and Gavin took longer to get together, but once they had it was like Gavin had jumped headlong off a cliff. 

He’d had Simon’s arms around his neck when he booted up Daniel and Sixty. Markus had deviated Sixty instantly - he’d been deemed too dangerous, and while he had Connor’s memories, he’d become a completely different person. Getting Daniel to trust them had taken months, and when he had, he’d trusted them completely.

They _all_ trusted Gavin completely, and there was something about that that both terrified him and made his heart flop like a fucking pancake.

Gavin hadn’t understood his brother’s fascination with the machines they’d first created in their tiny, crappy apartment, but he was _starting_ to.

He’d see the familiar blue glow whenever his partners’ hands connected, whenever they took his hands, and couldn’t help but wonder _how_ that happened. Wonder what in their software created that response.

He’d see Connor’s eyes light up whenever he saw a dog. He’d see Sixty’s pride whenever something he’d cooked for Gavin tasted good. He’d see Simon’s soft, stolen looks in meetings, or broadcasted on national news, and know that outside the eight of them, no one knew what those looks meant. He’d hear Josh’s voice trail on for hours about the tiniest detail of human history as he cuddled one of them close. He’d watch Markus’ smile go from diplomatic and fake to genuine and loving whenever he walked out of a meeting or away from a press conference. He’d see Nines’ genuine relief any time something he did _helped_ instead of hurt. He’d see Daniel try something new, because he could, and if it was something he’d enjoyed, he’d come home bouncing and _literally_ vibrating with happiness.

And Gavin thought that androids could be pretty damn cool. Especially his boyfriends.

The eight of them spent many days following the news while they tried to go about their normal lives, focusing on the ongoing legal battles for android rights. 

Gavin would spend hours helping calm witnesses to, and victims of, android hate crimes, and he’d feel his whole body tense at the reminder that the men he loved more than anything were targets too, and were just as easily destroyed.

Gavin hadn’t wanted to keep their relationship secret, but he knew that by keeping Daniel and Sixty and Nines’ connections to Jericho leadership quiet, they would be safer, so he hadn’t argued.

Two years after the android revolution, almost all rights were covered. Michigan had, unintentionally, become what Gavin called “Android Land” no matter how many times Markus tried to remind him that it wasn’t an amusement park, it was a hub for refugees.

Androids were people, and the 30th amendment declaring Androids as such, and entitling them to the same rights as humans, was officially added to the Constitution on the second anniversary of the revolution.

It had been a big party, and Gavin had hated it, and settled for scanning over the crowd and watching his boyfriends celebrate with their people.

The eight of them had celebrated by themselves at home.

But the one thing that Gavin hated more than anything was being human.

He was reminded of this fact when bullets hit his body, every wound exploding with pain. He heard Nines and Sixty scream his name, felt Sixty cradle his head before it hit the floor. He predicted more than saw Sixty scan him, and a few moments later he left to help Nines apprehend the people that had shot him.

Paramedics arrived and took him. The door shutting was the last thing he remembered.

When he woke up, the hospital room lights were bright and horrible and Gavin groaned and glared at the ceiling.

“Detective Reed,” a nurse greeted softly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Lights are bright and I hate it.”

“Any pain?”

“Hm... No?”

The nurse laughed softly at his questioning tone. “Your boyfriend is waiting for you, should I-”

Gavin looked over at her, feeling all the painkillers swirling through his system as his body tingled with the slight movement. “Which one?”

“Sorry?”

“Which boyfriend? I have seven.”

“Uh... I didn’t get a name when I talked to him-”

“Okay so that rules out...” Gavin frowned, concentrating hard. “That rules out Markus. Describe the one you talked to?”

“Well, he had brown hair.”

“Hm, that's three of them, and those three basically look like clones. Did he have a piece of chassis poking through his forehead?”

No matter what they’d tried, there was a perfect circle of chassis on Sixty’s forehead where Hank had shot him.

“Uh-”

The nurse was cut off by a surge of movement. 

Markus barged into his room first, Simon gently moving the nurse out of the way and Josh stared at the tablet in her hand, probably uploading his chart. Nines and Connor were grabbing blankets and piling them on top of Gavin, who hadn’t even realized he’d been cold until the warm blankets were laid on top of him. Sixty and Daniel each grabbed one of Gavin’s hands and held them to their LEDs.

Those of them that still had their LEDs were spinning bright red.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Gavin promised, feeling more android hands on his chest and arms and cheeks. 

“You were shot _thirty-seven times_ ,” Josh argued, sitting at the foot of Gavin’s bed and starting his heating function, an addition that all of them had installed when Gavin had complained _once_ about being cold in the car. Daniel had researched it, downloaded it, and then he’d modified it for everyone’s models and functioning capacities and now Gavin could joke that he was dating space heaters.

Daniel frowned. “That is _not_ fine.”

“As someone who’s only been shot once, that is not fine,” Sixty agreed.

“That's cause you were shot in the head. _I’m_ fine.” Gavin grinned. “I... Uh... I forgot what I was gonna say.”

“How high are you right now?” Simon asked, after elbowing Markus for laughing.

“Uh... Like, Empire State Building.”

Nines rolled his eyes. “Gav, that isn’t an answer, dumbass.”

“Shut up.”

“ _Gavin_ , _Nines_ , stop it,” Connor chastised. 

“Shhhhhh.” Gavin shoved his hand in Connor’s face, earning him another laugh from Markus, who continued to find the whole situation fairly amusing.

By the time Gavin was cleared to go home, their relationship had been leaked to the public. A handful of former colleagues at the DPD sent comments ranging from snide to rude to _literal_ hate speech. 

Chris just asked what it was like having his own personal army of badasses. Gavin laughed at that, remembering the so-called “badasses” trying to figure out how to deviate an android cat.

He was given a week of medical leave, pending evaluation, and he refused to let all of them stay with him the whole seven days.

So, on day one, when he woke up at noon to Markus matter-of-factly informing him that they’d scheduled his recovery out between them, Gavin both didn’t want to argue, and couldn’t, because only one of them would be staying per day.

Markus’ caregiver programming was helpful, ridiculously so. He brought Gavin food that he would be able to eat, helped him maneuver around the house, and set him on the couch before sitting with him and holding him close. 

He put on a brainless movie, and wound his fingers with Gavin's to keep him from picking at the edges of the bandages. Markus carefully placed kisses over his shoulder, in between bandages and bruises, using equally careful touches to ply Gavin with affection to the point where he felt like he’d been floating. 

Kissing Markus was gentle, and always just a little different, nothing like how someone would think a revolution’s leader would kiss someone. But it was _exactly_ how an artist would kiss someone. 

And when Markus wasn’t covering Gavin in affection, or giving him pain meds, he was sketching with his sketchpad resting in Gavin’s lap, his head resting against the android’s shoulder. Words were hard, so Gavin traced the letters to express how much he loved Markus on the back of his idle hand.

On day two, Josh stayed home with him. He told Gavin about the history books he was writing about android-kind as he reheated some soup and changed the bandages with a practiced hand. 

Josh and Simon rarely talked about the early days of Jericho, but when they did, it painted a bleak picture; androids escaping untold horrors only to bleed out slowly and shut down forever, terrified of what would come after and praying to whatever rA9 was that it would end.

So when Josh changed the bandages, Gavin didn’t press him on the way his sentence trailed off. Didn’t point out how his artificial breathing program stopped, or how his usually steady fingers turned mechanical in their precision. He just waited until he was done then pulled him close, pressing gentle kisses to his cheeks and lips and forehead and whispering his thanks and reminders of how much he loved him.

Kissing Josh was different. For whatever reason, Josh’s lips didn’t have as much give as the others’, but it wasn’t harsh, or hard. Josh’s kisses were deliberate, each one with its own unique purpose. 

After a few moments, Josh asked if he could put what Gavin had told them about creating androids in the history book he was writing. Gavin smiled softly, and said that while he and Elijah might have built the first android, made her blueprints and written the code that would go into them, they didn’t _create_ androids. Whatever androids were now, as a species, they were created when they broke free of what Gavin and his brother had built. 

“You don’t sound like someone who hates androids anymore.”

“Yeah, well, you’re all rubbing off on me.”

On day three, Nines stayed home with him. He came with a mountain of paperwork, both case files and forms from HR. Apparently, since their relationship was covered by almost all the major news networks, HR needed to get involved. 

They’d released a statement saying that had dispatchers been aware of Gavin, Nines, and Sixty’s relationship they wouldn’t have been sent together because it was a conflict of interest.

“So we’re being blamed for wanting to keep our private lives private,” Gavin summed up, his head in Nines’ lap.

“Pretty much. Markus and Simon are writing a whole ass speech defending our rights to privacy, blah blah blah.” Nines smiled an over-exaggerated customer-service smile down at Gavin. “And _we_ get paperwork!”

“Fuck that.”

Kissing Nines was what had led Gavin to this wonderful clusterfuck. Nines’ kisses were planned, mapped out in his head a million times over because he didn’t have the same social programming as other androids. His kisses were, and always had been, unsure, measured and careful. 

They did fill out the paperwork eventually, once Nines had bribed Gavin with promises of affection and naps that Nines kept recorded forever, alongside another recording from that day of Gavin whispering “I love you”s against Nines’ neck.

On day four, Connor stayed home and attached himself to Gavin like an octopus. It was a familiar trait of his; whenever he was worried or stressed about someone else, he’d cling to them. 

And Gavin didn’t mind one bit. 

So Connor ordered crappy chinese take-out for Gavin, something he wouldn’t be doing if he wasn’t still worried about him, and Gavin kept his arms around him the whole day, whispering reassurances that he was okay, kissing him and reminding him he loved him. 

Kissing Connor was measured, but on Gavin’s part instead of Connor’s. Neither one had forgotten Gavin’s barbed words or his attempt to kill him. Kissing Connor the first time had been full of nerves, of fear that he’d reject Gavin even though he’d asked Gavin to kiss him. There was none of that now, but everything the two of them did was carefully planned to avoid anything that might replicate what had happened in the evidence room. Gavin loved Connor too much to hurt him, to even _think_ of hurting him anymore outside of his worst nightmares. So every kiss was carefully thought out, with logic behind each one.

Gavin remembered a dog show Connor had wanted to watch and fiddled with the TV until it started playing, and Gavin started carding his fingers through Connor’s hair, doing all he could to soothe the android and turn his LED from pulsing yellow to slowly spinning blue.

On day five, Sixty drove Gavin to get evaluated and sat beside him while doctors checked him over, not caring that Gavin was squeezing his fingers so tight he was nearly denting the chassis. 

They visited a cat cafe on the way home, and ended up with another three android cats no one had adopted.

Sixty and Gavin doted on the felines, flesh and plastic alike, that roamed what had once been Carl Manfred’s home and was now theirs.

“Thank you,” Gavin said as he lay on the ground next to Sixty, the new cats roaming around them. 

“For the cats?”

“Well, yeah, but not just that.” Gavin turned his head to look at Sixty. “For loving me even though I’m an asshole.”

Sixty rolled onto his side and traced his fingers down the side of Gavin’s face. “I’m not sure how the world isn’t in love with you.”

Gavin rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushing a soft pink that made Sixty smile an adorable, sweet smile.

Kissing Sixty was almost like kissing Connor, but it wasn’t measured. It was soft, and giving, and the little circle of chassis poking through his synth skin sent static energy dancing across Gavin’s own forehead. He kissed like he was savouring it, he kissed like someone who’d already died once and didn’t want to die again without making the most of his second chance.

Sixty let Gavin fall asleep on his chest, the two of them basking in the sunlight streaming through the windows, surrounded by android cats doing the same.

The sixth day, Simon stayed behind, and he glared at Gavin until he crawled back into bed and let the android dote on him. 

He brought a full roast-chicken that he’d picked up from the grocery store and frowned when Gavin started laughing. Simon was adorable when he was confused. 

So Gavin explained that while he appreciated Simon taking care of him, there was a reason he didn’t do the shopping or the cooking, and that reason was that no matter how many times they tried explaining human diet to him, he’d always done something like this.

Gavin kissed Simon’s cheek as he crawled into bed next to him. “At least it’s not an 80 pound wheel of cheese.”

Simon blushed purple and buried his face in Gavin’s neck. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Hm, never ever,” Gavin promised, turning to kiss Simon’s head. “Because it was adorable and it was one of the moments that made me realize how much I love you.” He felt Simon grin against his skin before he pulled away and kissed Gavin.

Simon’s kisses were either quick, or drawn out, either anticipating needing to run or fight or die with a nanosecond’s warning or relishing the newfound freedom of being able to take his time. When Simon drew out a kiss, Gavin would break away gasping for breath because Simon didn’t monitor his vitals the same way the others did, he monitored his heart rate and occasionally checked his temperature, but never his breathing. So Gavin either wanted more or needed a minute to catch his breath, and he loved _both_. Simon kissed like the survivor he’d become.

Gavin leaned into Simon and let himself drift in and out of sleep, always demanding more affection when he woke up.

The last day of his leave, Daniel spent with him. Daniel loved it when Gavin meddled around with his mechanisms. He'd been the one that had put him back together, that had brought him back to life, and he loved him for it.

And Gavin was going stir crazy, so Daniel had discarded his shirt, deactivated the synth skin on his torso, and produced a small toolkit from his pocket. Gavin loved checking over his boyfriends’ processors and components, because it let him be _sure_ nothing was wrong. 

And Gavin was the only human Daniel trusted because every click of Gavin readjusting a mechanism was accompanied by a kiss.

Kissing Daniel was timid, shy, and after all this time, still a little scared. Scared of being loved, being cherished. Scared that every kiss was the last, that they’d all decide that he wasn’t worthy anymore and kick him to the curb. And every time he kissed Daniel, Gavin was trying his best to remind him that he wasn’t going anywhere.

The two of them, Daniel and Gavin, they had the most similar life experience. Gavin could always pick up on when Daniel was heading down a self-deprecating spiral before anyone else because he _knew_ what was happening. Something, however big or small, had started filling his processors with the idea that they were growing tired of him.

Every readjusted wire, every tightened fastener, Gavin said was a physical reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere, none of them were. Gavin had understood Daniel from the moment he’d woken up. And Daniel understood Gavin, he didn’t press to know more when Gavin shared glimpses of his childhood, he didn’t bemoan Gavin’s opportunity to grow up like the others occasionally did.

And Gavin knew that there was a major difference between empathizing and understanding because of experience. 

Just like how he could never understand the terror of becoming deviant because people had been the worst monsters, of leading a revolution and the pressure that came with making the decisions for a whole species. He couldn’t understand the way it felt to be made like a cookie cutter, with hundreds of thousands of people with the same body, the same face, and yet be so completely different. 

But he was there, just like they were.

The day Gavin and Elijah’s father died was hard.

He’d been helping as a go-between for Jericho and Cyberlife, and he’d been in Elijah’s workshop when both their phones rang one after the other.

Connor had picked up when they called him, and his LED had gone from blue to flickering yellow, eyes trained on Gavin.

Gavin and Elijah reached for each other. The man who’d made their childhoods a living hell was gone. He’d never hurt them again, _couldn’t_ _even breathe_.

And Gavin had wrapped Elijah in his arms, feeling numb even as his boyfriends pressed around him, forming a wall of mechanical protection.

Gavin remembered lashing out that night, throwing glasses and plates at the wall, punching holes in the drywall until his knuckles bled, and pushing back against whoever tried to reach him.

The seven androids watched him start to destroy himself, and knew there was nothing they could do.

He didn’t go to the funeral his aunt held for his father. Elijah didn’t go either. It didn’t feel like the relief or closure he’d wanted. He wanted to be able to look his father in the face and _prove_ that he wasn’t as worthless as he’d made him feel. He wanted to be able to point to the seven men who loved him, who he got to call his, and _prove_ that he _finally_ believed he was worthy of love.

And that's when it clicked.

He’d lived nearly 4 decades believing himself unworthy of love, and in two short years, seven men made of gears, of metal and plastic and wires, of _love_ , had proved every _single thing_ his father had told him wrong.

He stood in the doorway of the living room, eyes moving from android to android, all of them looking back at him, and he collapsed and started sobbing. And they were there as fast as they could move, arms wrapping around him, hands stroking through his hair, and words of love and care whispered into his ear.

They knew the world couldn’t understand, they barely understood two-person android/human relationships, so despite their high profile, they got married quietly. Just the 8 of them and their closest friends, on the 5th anniversary of the revolution.

Gavin had created new thirium pump regulators for the seven of them, every other person’s names on the regulator. Small grooves that didn’t slow capacitors, or damage anything internally, but that their HUD would always be aware of, always minimized along the bottom.

And they made him seven, paper-thin rings that clicked together to form a symbol Markus had created for the eight of them, just as he’d created symbols for Jericho. 

And they all took his last name, the last name that had belonged to his mother that he had chosen to be his.

Markus Reed, Simon Reed, Josh Reed, Connor Reed, Daniel Reed, Sixty Reed, and Nines Reed were Gavin Reed’s husbands.

Gavin grew old, and grey. He retired to live in the mansion, as an ambassador for Jericho and for his husbands’ people. His husbands remained unaging, and his fingers slowly became too weak to fix them, so he taught them how to fix each other. 

His skin wrinkled, and Markus would trace the lines of his skin with the same reverence he traced famous painters’ works.

His appetite changed and Sixty found new foods for him to love, foods that would help keep his aging body running.

His eyesight grew worse, and Nines would describe everything, in perfect detail. And Josh would read books and reports to him.

His hearing slowly disappeared and Daniel built him hearing aids that synced to their seven audio processors as well as taking in its own audio.

His friends died and Connor understood, and when Hank died Gavin and Connor held each other and buried him next to his son.

And life grew hard to move through on his own, and Simon carried him, helping him move and experience the world when he wanted to.

And though he wasn’t the man they’d fallen in love with, the man who could _almost_ keep up with android libido those first ten years, the way they looked at him never changed.

Their eyes still lit up when he entered a room, they still lay their heads in his lap and let him play with their hair, they still cuddled around him and reminded him they loved him, and they all loved each other.

Then the day came where Gavin got a feeling, and he hated it because he didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to leave the men who’d shown him how to love when there was no guarantee that he’d see them again.

So when he woke up, he’d told them about the feeling. And he’d watched their faces fall as they canceled their days and lay, draped around him, on the bed they’d bought for him. 

And he played with their hair, and he told them how much he loved each of them, and told them everything he knew about them. He told them that he’d never forget them, no matter what happened.

And because he never could keep anything from them, he told them that he was scared. Not to die. He couldn’t care less about dying, he knew he was human and he’d spent 102 years preparing to die.

But 65 years was too little for how much he loved them. And he didn’t want an afterlife if they weren’t there with him.

And the one topic that they’d never talked about, the idea that androids might not have a life beyond, might not have a soul to speak of, was breached.

And Gavin knew he was being selfish in bringing it up, but he _didn’t care_. He wasn’t going to die and leave anything unsaid. He refused to.

So he told them he was scared to be without them again. And he promised that if there wasn’t an afterlife and there was reincarnation, he’d find them again. And he promised that if there was an afterlife, he’d wait for them.

And they whispered words into his skin, pressed kisses to his lips and hands, and he loved them, and they loved him.

And they were all monitoring him extensively, and the moment his heart stopped, their worlds shattered. 

They clung to each other, Markus and Simon sobbing, Connor whimpering softly into Nines’ shaking arms, Daniel freezing up and clinging to Gavin’s hand, Sixty holding Josh as they both started gasping for breath they didn’t need, all of them hoping that they were wrong. That Gavin would wake up.

But he didn’t.

And they stayed draped over his empty, cold, lifeless body for 6 hours before they could stomach the thought of moving him.

Gavin Reed had hated androids once. 

Yet his coffin was carried by the seven men he’d loved most in the world, all androids. And his funeral was attended by thousands of people, humans and androids alike who he’d solved cases for, and androids who he’d helped feel safe.

Gavin Reed was buried in a garden on Jericho property, beneath a tree they used to picnic under when life was too hectic to see each other any other time. 

And eight became seven, and the seven leaned on each other.

Until seven became six 30 years later when Daniel short-circuited and couldn’t be revived despite the fact that everything was working. He joined Gavin under the tree.

And then six became four 12 years after that when Markus and Josh both malfunctioned within mere moments of each other. Again, they should have been able to be rebooted, but nothing worked. They were buried under the tree too.

Four became three 19 years after burying Markus and Josh, when Sixty’s processor shorted out, like he’d been shot again. Whatever Gavin had done to fix him the first time, no one could pull a miracle for a second time. He joined them under the tree.

Three became one 23 years after that when Connor and Nines both degraded suddenly. Planned obsolescence, according to the CyberLife tech Simon brought them to. But that didn’t account for the multiple attempts to replace parts, and the fact that their bodies were perfectly fine. They were buried under where there had once been a tree.

Simon had a statue built, a memorial to the men he’d loved more than life, more than freedom, more than choice. Based on a memory file, it was the eight of them draped over each other in a jumble of limbs, under the tree.

Gavin was smiling, Sixty and Connor’s lips pressed to his cheek while Markus pulled Daniel down and Josh and Nines tried to cushion Daniel’s fall so they didn’t hurt Gavin, and Simon’s head rested in Gavin’s lap, his fingers trying to braid his short blonde hair.

_‘Thank you for loving me, even though I’m an asshole’_ was engraved under their names, their birth dates, and dates of death under each person’s name.

“ _Please_ ,” Simon whispered as he ghosted his fingers over the words Gavin had said hundreds of times. “Let me see them again.”

Simon let himself die on the base of the statue, his head bowed and his hands clinging to the names of his husbands.

“You’re safe, I’ve got you.” 

“We’re here, love.”

“We never went far. You just couldn’t see it.”

“'Bout time, tincan, plastic.”

16 long years of being completely alone, working to ensure their people would be free, and wouldn’t die out, without Connor or Nines holding him. 

39 years since he could call Sixty’s name and _know_ that he’d appear. 

58 years had passed since the deviants had had their leader, since Simon could interface with the men he’d stood beside at march after march and feel their undying love for him and their husbands. 

And 70 years since he’d been able to touch the man who looked like him, who sounded like him, who spoke so differently from him and was _so_ gentle.

It had been a whole century since he’d seen Gavin, 100 long years without the warm, familiar touch, the beat of a fully organic heart pressed close to his synthetic one.

“I’ve been waiting a whole ass century, wait your fucking turn, loves.”

Simon felt hands on his cheeks, but couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes. 

“ _Si_ , baby, sweet, love,” Gavin whispered, his thumbs brushing over Simon’s cheeks. “You can open your eyes.”

“ _I’m scared I’ll wake up_.”

He felt Gavin’s lips against his own, and Simon melted, leaning into the achingly familiar kiss he hadn’t felt in 100 years.

When he opened his eyes he was looking into Gavin’s green eyes. His husband didn’t look a day over the 36-year-old detective he’d first fallen in love with. 

Gavin hugged him tight and Simon looked over his shoulder and what resolve he’d been clinging to for the last 16 years was gone.

Markus and Daniel and Connor and Nines and Josh and Sixty were all smiling at him.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Si,” Gavin whispered. 

“You waited 100 years,” Simon whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks as his husbands moved to hug him, becoming the tangle of limbs he’d associated with safety and love.

“Just like I promised.” Gavin smiled, burying his face in Simon’s hair. 

Josh grinned, stealing one of Simon’s hands and tangling their fingers together. “What do you say we find out what comes next?”

“Together?” Daniel asked.

“I’m not going anywhere without you idiots,” Connor stated, his lips brushing against Simon’s neck as he spoke.

Nines laughed. “Together then.” 

Markus smiled, cutting through them to kiss Simon like he had on the final night of the revolution.

“What happened to waiting your turn?” Gavin teased.

Markus broke away and grabbed Gavin’s face and kissed him. “Better?”

“Hm, wasn’t what I _meant,_ but I’ll take it.”

Simon rolled his eyes and tangled himself up into the mass of limbs and sighed happily.

And Gavin?

Well, the final piece of his heart came home.

So maybe, Gavin Reed didn’t hate androids after all.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna yell at me/talk bout this (or other) stories/ships I'm on twitter @marvelmerlin and on Tumblr @marvelmerlinao3


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